


The Missing Blade

by thewinchesterlifestyle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cain!Dean, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Violence, hinted at dark!cas, season nine, spoilers for blade runners, tainted grace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:00:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1336324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewinchesterlifestyle/pseuds/thewinchesterlifestyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The blade was gone but the Mark remembered it. Remembered how it felt to be grounded in fury and laser focused on the kill.</p><p>(Spoilers ahead)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Missing Blade

**Author's Note:**

> There ARE spoilers for things to come. You've been warned.

It was fire crawling through his veins and stealing the humanity that Dean had desperately clung to for years when Hell-fire had tried to sneak up on him. The Mark burned and flared and whispered. The blade was gone but the Mark remembered it. Remembered how it felt to be grounded in fury and laser focused on the kill. It wanted it back and Dean worked to shove those thoughts as far back as it could.

But it seemed impossible.

His fingers twitched and his palm ached for the weight of the weapon. Ached for the rightness and the feeling of being so completely connected, so aware, that Dean had to grit his teeth against it. Sam continued to cast him worried looks and Dean wanted to give in to that dark voice. What did he have left? Sam seemed to want nothing to do with him and Cas was God knows where. He had  _nothing_.

The Mark flared and those whispered words swam through him as his control started to splinter. It started to crack and fall away until he had to pull the car over. Until he stormed away from Sam's voice calling out and the purr of the Impala's engine.

A low snarl escaped and his hands shook. When it came again it washed over him and stole his reasoning. Sound punched out and it was near inhuman. Violence and anger and threat combined into one sound that rang out through the woods. His fingers gripped at the tree in front of him and his breathing came out ragged. Time was lost on him until he finally stumbled back to his car where Sam stood staring at him with worry in his eyes. " _Dean_?" it came out hesitant but the oldest Winchester waved him off.

He climbed into the car, waited for Sam, before heading back towards the bunker. The further he drove the further away he was from  _his_  blade. It called out to him, raged against the distance, until he was white knuckling the steering wheel. The voice was lower as it called out for the blade, for violence, as he watched the road and kept driving.

The first thing he did upon their arrival at the bunker was to head to the shooting range and empty every single gun he could get his hands on. The sound of a gun firing and the smell of it helped to soothe some of the ache but not all of it. His hands still shook and the Mark still burned viciously.

Blood

Violence 

Death

He craved them. The thrill of the hunt and the rush from a successful kill. He'd enjoyed the almost constant hunt in Purgatory but he'd never experienced the  _need_  to destroy that he felt now. It was heavy and thick, choking, as he stumbled towards his room. Stripping and stumbling into the shower. The water so hot it should burn but the only thing it did was distract him from the fire raging inside. The distraction was minimal but it helped him to gain some focus.

Sam watched him wearily over the next weeks as they continued hunting, searching and pushing forward. Each kill only fueled him further. He  _needed_  the rush, the feel of hot blood staining his hands, as the voice got louder. It screamed for the blade. For him to destroy and carve out a path of death. To calm the violence simmering under the surface and threatening to break free. The Mark sought the connection the blade provided but he could do nothing for it. So he focused on hunting with the tools he had.

What he didn't know was that Sam had been closely observing his descent in the Mark's effects. That the brother he'd thought was completely indifferent to him had called Castiel. Called and pleaded for the angel to come and help Dean.

But the angel that walked into the bunker, that noticed the Mark but said nothing, was far from the angel they'd last seen.

Castiel's grace, his stole grace, rolled under his vessel. It was turbulent and tainted. Dean could practically taste it coming from him and it drew him in. The violence of it called out to the violence in Dean that was close to completely overwhelming him.

Blue eyes were dark as Castiel stared at Dean with intent. "You're in pain." the words were low and the hand that closed around Dean's arm, the one opposite of the Mark that used to bare a visible angelic claim, and sent a flare of icy grace through him. It banked the fire and had Dean's eyes hooding in pleasure.

The feeling was similar to the rush after a fresh kill and Dean found himself craving more of it. He wanted to press close to his angel, to that spoiled grace, for the soothing feeling. Castiel's hand remained locked down on his arm in a possessive hold that the hunter took comfort from. He knew his angel would help. That Castiel would not let him suffer.

"Cas...I need my blade. It  _burns. Everything burns._ " it was rough and Castiel locked eyes with Dean. The pain and need had the angel stepping closer. It was near impossible for him to ignore such obvious distress and pain in his hunter.

Tainted grace twisted and reacted to the darkness radiating from Dean's newest Mark. Those piercing blue eyes fixed completely on the hunter before him. "Where is it?" Castiel asked in a low voice and Dean's tense body seemed to relax as his lip pulled back in a vicious grin. He had known his angel would help him. Darkening grace wrapped around him and cooled the fires raging under the surface. It wasn't his new weapon but he let himself sink into it.

" _Crowley_."

 


End file.
